


The Swerve Special

by UltraSwagnus



Category: leaving blank for personal reasons
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Face-Sitting, Flirting, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Fixation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Teasing, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Voyeurism, weird kinky shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 11:24:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraSwagnus/pseuds/UltraSwagnus
Summary: just some swerve x oc smut keep scrolling





	The Swerve Special

The bar was filled with its usual crowd, except for three power cells who had claimed one of the side booths to themselves. They were new to the Lost Light and were checking out what the ship had to offer in terms of entertainment. 

They had been sipping on their drinks for a few minutes and enjoyed the ambiance that Swerve’s provided, along with each other’s company. After a while, however, Gizmo noticed that Surge would lean over just enough to look at something at the other end of the bar, only to return to his drink as if he wasn’t doing anything at all. 

_ Busted. _

“What’s up?” the pink mech asked her companion.

“Hm?” was the response she got back.

“You’re looking at something. What is it?”

“Is it something interesting?” Doodad chimed in, still fiddling with the curliest straw he’d ever have the pleasure of putting his mouth on.

“I-It’s nothing,” he tried to assure the both of them, but his efforts were fruitless.

Gizmo peered over the back side of the booth she was sitting in and took a look for herself. Feeling his face plates starting to flush, Surge stared into his drink. Gizmo turned back around and immediately knew what was going on. She chuckled as she reached for her glass of engex.

“What is it, Gizmo? Did you see anything?” the blue power cell asked, blowing bubbles into his drink.

“Oh, yeah. I saw something alright,” Gizmo smirked.

“I wanna see!” Doodad exclaimed, nearly crawling into Surge’s lap to take a gander. Before the blue and green mech could even catch a glimpse of whatever it was that had his sparkmate’s attention, he was gently pushed back into his seat.

“Can we  _ not  _ draw attention to ourselves,  _ please?” _ the embarrassed mech emphasized.

“I just wanted to see..” Doodad pouted.

“It’s  _ him _ , right?” Gizmo blurted, knowing full well that her question was rhetorical.

“Who?!” Doodad whispered aggressively.

“Swerve, the bartender,” Gizmo whispered back. Immediately, the blue mech’s face lit up and he grabbed Surge by the arm.

“Is it really?”

Surge picked up his drink and pressed the glass up to his lips, looking at the floor tiling next to him.

“..Maybe.”

“Why don’t you go up there and talk to him?” Gizmo suggested, only to receive a look from Surge.

“Because,” he began, “I—”

“Want me to talk to him for you?” the pink mech offered.

“And say  _ what,  _ exactly?”

“You tell me.”

Surge took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

“Maybe we should all talk about something first,” he began. This grabbed Doodad and Gizmo’s attention. Doodad scooted closer and placed a hand on Surge’s thigh as he waited for the other to elaborate. Surge reciprocated the act by taking his own hand under the table and putting it over top Doodad’s, rubbing his thumb against his knuckle joints. “What if, uh, the three of us...and Swerve…”

“He’s cute so I’m down,” Doodad interrupted. Surge turned his helm to look at the mech on his left who was beaming at him. Surge gave a small smile in reply. He then turned to Gizmo, who also gave a soft grin.

“Could be fun,” she finally spoke. Surge’s spark fluttered in excitement as he got two unanimous approvals to his vaguely worded proposal. There was now just one more person to ask.

* * *

Gizmo sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to approach her. He was busy pouring drinks for some other bots. Probably people he knew well enough, judging by how animated he was while talking with them. The red mech behind the counter eventually noticed that she was there and excused himself. He approached her with a charismatic smile as he slung a dish towel over his shoulder plating.

“Hey! You’re a new face. Welcome to Swerve’s,” he greeted. Gizmo smiled back and placed her chin piece in the palm of her hand, her elbow resting on the bar’s surface.

“Glad to be here,” she answered back. She gave him a quick once over with her optics and concluded that yes, the red minibot was indeed cute. She’d have to tell Doodad that she agreed with him at some point.

“So, what can I get you?”

“I was thinking you could help me decide,” the pink and yellow mech admitted.

“I know a few different mixes that could suit anyone’s fancy,” the grounder boasted. “What kind of drink were you thinking of?”

The power cell stroked her chin piece and hummed to herself, as if she really needed to think about what she wanted to request.

“Do you have anything you’d give to someone that you want to take back to your room with?”

“Oho!  _ The Swerve Special _ . An excellent choice.”

Before she knew it, Swerve began whipping up the drink right before her optics, putting in a little bit of this and a little of that, adding a few shakes before pouring the contents into a very elegant looking glass and sitting it down in front of the other minibot.

“So, who will have the pleasure of getting to drink  _ this?” _ Swerve asked.

“Hopefully someone who doesn’t mind two other bots joining the fun.”

“You mean the guys at your table?” he wondered aloud, realizing that he might have crossed a line after the words had left his big mouth. But could anyone blame him? Who doesn’t love a bit of berthroom gossip? “Probably shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business, sorry.”

_ “Do you want to make it your business?” _ she asked, sliding the drink across the counter closer to Swerve.

His optics grew wide at the gesture, realizing what the context of the conversation was. He had to admit, no one had been so cunning and forward with him before. He was impressed. 

And a little turned on.

He grinned sheepishly at her, not really knowing what to say in this situation. Being invited to a foursome wasn’t an item on his itinerary for the evening. Becoming nervous, Swerve began to stumble over words that expressed his flattery. He stopped when he felt a pink servo touching his.

“Just think about it,” she said cooly, leaving some payment on the table before heading back to the table where Doodad now sat alone. Gizmo gave a puzzled look as she returned to their booth, wondering where her shy sparkmate had gone to.

Surge had been called by Ratchet to finalize a few formalities before officially signing the minibot on as an on-call nurse, Doodad had told her. It had been a long process and they were delighted, despite the grey and magenta mech having to leave early. The pair decided to stay a while longer to celebrate.

* * *

It was close to closing time and the bar was just about empty. The two remaining power cells were about to return to their shared habsuite when Ten approached them and set a drink on the table.

Doodad looked at the behemoth of a mechanoid and watched as he just smiled and walked off to do some other mundane task assigned to him.

“I didn’t order another drink,” Doodad said, looking quizzically at the ornate glass.

“Neither did I,” replied Gizmo, “but I’ve got a feeling this one’s on the house,” she stated, taking the glass and having a taste of the  _ Swerve Special. _

* * *

Swerve finished his after hours cleaning duties a bit quicker than most nights. The last hour of his shift had been spent with a spike pressurizing at random intervals. His thoughts had wandered across different scenarios with the three strangers after Gizmo had ended their conversation.

He went around the bar picking up glasses that had been left behind and wiping down the tables. When he had gotten to the power cell’s table, he noticed a napkin with some text scrawled on it. It was a floor level and a room number. Below that was a frequency code with the message “ask for Gizmo.”

His spike began to pressurize again as he entered the code in his internal software. Was this real? Was this  _ really _ happening? To  _ him?  _ Primus, he hoped so. He hoped this wasn’t a dream. He pinched himself just to make sure and realized that this was in fact reality.

The last thing he had to do before leaving was sweep up, then he could go. As he swept, he opened a comm-link and began to hail the newly installed frequency code he had been given. It was silent for a moment before the connection went through. He cleared his vocalizer.

“Uh, Gizmo?” he asked uncertainty.

“The one and only,” the voice replied. It was definitely hers, recalling her vocal pattern from their previous conversation. “Should we be expecting a visit from you this evening?”

Swerve’s spike pressed into the inside of his modesty plating as she spoke to him. He could feel his engine revving up as he pushed the broom across expanses of tile.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world,” he rambled.

“Good to know,” Gizmo chuckled.

“I’ll be over as soon as I finish up here,” informed Swerve.

“Take your time, Big Red. We’re not going anywhere,” the power cell assured.

As if his spike wasn’t hard and aching enough, she had to go and call him  _ that _ . Big and Red indeed. He set the broom to lean against one of the nearby tables and grabbed at his crotch paneling. It was very warm and ready to snap open.

“Actually, I just finished,” he lied. “I’m on my way.” He figured he could come in a bit earlier for his next shift to finish sweeping.

“Oh, good,” Gizmo sang. “See you soon.”

Gizmo ended the call before he could get the last word in. Which was for the best, because he didn’t know what he would’ve said back. Something awkward or stupid, most likely.

Or both.

* * *

Swerve stood outside the door of the power cell’s suite. He tripled checked the note Gizmo had left for him just to make sure he was at the right place. 

He was.

He pushed a button on the outside control panel and waited for the door to open. Not a moment sooner did it do just that, with Gizmo standing at the entrance.

“Hey, there,” she smirked. “Glad you could make it.”

Swerve chuckled. “It was an offer I couldn’t refuse, really.”

Gizmo stepped to the side to allow the bartender entry into their suite.

“Doodad has been talking nonstop about how he wants to put his mouth all over you,” she whispered as they entered together. Swerve’s attention gravitated to said mech, who was waiting eagerly on one of the lounge sofas. Doodad smiled wide as they made optic contact and began patting the empty space next to him. Swerve went over and sat next to the minibot and Gizmo sat across from them on the lounge parallel to the first.

“Where’s, uh,” Swerve began, not even knowing the other’s name.

“Oh, Surge is with Ratchet finishing up some medic stuff. Can I kiss you? You’re really cute, by the way.”

_ “Doodad,  _ cool your jets. He just got here.”

“Sorry..”

Swerve didn’t think he needed to apologize. He placed a servo on the back of Doodad’s squared helm and pulled him into a kiss, taking the power cell by surprise. Easing into the sudden motion, he opened his mouth and flicked his glossa against Swerve’s lips, and the other responded by opening his as well. Their tongues met in a wet and warm unison.

“Watch out for him,” Gizmo warned Swerve, reclining herself like one of those French humans on the opposite sofa, “he’s handsy, too.”

Before the red mech had a chance to fully process what had been said to him, a blue servo had already found his crotch plating. Swerve gasped into Doodad’s mouth as the hand simulated rhythmic motions where his spike would release. The power cell’s other hand dragged down against the ventilation slats on the bartender’s torso, daring to even run a finger or two through the empty spaces. This made the grounder shiver.

_ “Ough, _ keep doing  _ that _ ,” he moaned.

_ “This?”  _ Doodad asked, emphasizing his hand on the other’s groin.

“N-No,” Swerve corrected, taking Doodad’s hand into his own and placing it on the other panel of vents on his chest. Doodad took the very obvious hint and ran both sets of digits underneath the flaps of metal and caressed the inside of the crevices. Swerve’s engine whined as the power cell moved down each row and went back up to start again. No one had ever touched Swerve like this, so he was surprised at how good it felt.

“Not to interrupt, gentlemech,” Gizmo began, “but we should probably discuss the agenda for when Surge comes back.”

“I don’t care as long as Doodad keeps touching me,” Swerve blurted out, titling the blue mech’s helm back just a bit, then beginning to kiss and suck on the power cell’s neck cabling.

_ “Aw, not there!” _ Doodad cooed, feeling himself becoming soft and weak from what was being done to him. Next thing he knew, Swerve was nearly on top of him, nibbling on Doodad’s delicate cabling. The blue power cell did his best to continue touching the ventilation slats on Swerve’s chest, but it was becoming difficult to function when your erogenous zone was being taken captive by rows of denta.

Doodad’s spike twitched inside of his array. Swerve was being so hot right now and he was beyond turned on. He kept one hand on the grounder as he allowed the other to slip between his own legs. He palmed at the modesty plating where his spike would emerge from. 

“Don’t be rude, Doodad,” Gizmo chimed in. “He’s our guest. Make him feel welcome.” Gizmo’s spike was already fully pressurized and being tugged in her pink grip at a slow pace as she watched the scene before her.

Swerve suddenly felt a hand gaze between his legs, stroking the panel that shielded his valve. After a click, it slid and folded away, allowing the other mech to do as he pleased with it. Doodad massaged at the lips that surrounded the port’s entry, touching the bio-lighted sensors that decorated it.

The power cell slipped two fingers inside of the bartender, making the later gasp into his audial. He worked the pair around the cavern of wet metal to get a feel of it. As far as he could tell, Swerve had a lovely texture and he imagined that fragging him would be a delight to anyone’s spike.

“Gizmo, he feels  _ good _ ,” he announced, fingering Swerve at a consistent pace. The bartender bit down on his lip as Doodad’s digits penetrated him. “You should spike him.”

“You think so?” the pink mech asked, still edging her spike. Swerve’s legs began to tremble with the blue mini switching his motions into a lovely come hither. He moaned and rocked his hip joints, attempting to get even more friction. All he got was a chuckle from the other. 

“Yeah,” Doodad replied. “I think he wants it.”

“Hmm. Does that sound good to you, Big Red?”

“Sounds great.  _ Ough _ _ , _ fantastic. I’m ready,” he half groaned, half rambled. Gizmo smirked.

* * *

Finally! How long had he been in there? Maybe a couple of hours? Surge didn’t know. He shrugged. He had better things to think about as he left the Medbay. Sure, being officially inducted as one of the Lost Light’s nursing assistants was a wonderful thought, but thinking about being sandwiched between Doodad and Gizmo while they all recharged was a much better one. Speaking of his sparkmates, he had just received a notification from Doodad. The symbol of an image file appeared at the bottom of his visor’s screen, and within seconds he prompted it to expand before his vision sensors. His optics grew wide at what he saw. 

Swerve was sucking off  _ Gizmo  _ on their  _ couch, _ in their  _ suite. _

His face began to grow hot as he stared at it. He couldn’t believe it. Gizmo had done it. They were gonna frag Swerve. Swerve was gonna frag  _ him. _ He felt his cooling fans turn on low as he thought about what would happen when he joined them.

He shook his helm. He had to keep cool. Gizmo and Doodad already knew that he fancied the red mech, and he certainly did not want Swerve to know he was nervous in any way. He swallowed hard, hoping to put down his anxieties with it.

* * *

_ “Mmmm, _ you were right, Doodad. He  _ is _ cute.”

Swerve sat between the pink mech’s legs and bobbed his helm over her spike. It was the perfect size for his intake to deep throat. He could feel Doodad’s servo on the top of his cowl as the power cell supported himself. Swerve’s hand stroked the blue mech’s spike, which had already been leaking pre-fluid over the red servo.

“U-Uh-huh,” Doodad replied. He was getting dangerously close, and that foreplay Swerve had given to his neck hadn’t helped any. He moaned into the touch, and thrust himself just barely enough for Gizmo to notice. She laughed.

“Ready to go, are we?”

_ “Oh, god, Gizmo, I’m so ready to go,” _ he said, biting his lip. “I wish Surge would  _ hurry up..! _ ”

As soon as the words left his vocalizer, the door slid opened and Surged walked into the scene. 

“Speak of the devilbot,” Gizmo spoke in a low tone. All optics went to Surge, including Swerve’s, who had stopped performing on Gizmo to see. The grounder smiled at him, a long string of oral solvent connecting his mouth to the head of spike he was blowing. Surge did his best not to stare too long.

“You’re just in time, sweetspark,” she said a bit louder. “Doodad needs your mouth.”

Surge took a moment to finish analyzing the scene before commenting.

“I can see that,” Surge replied, watching Swerve go back to Gizmo’s length.

_ “Surge,” _ Doodad whined,  _ “I need you.” _

“You sure? Because it looks like Swerve’s already giving you _ a hand,”  _ he joked, trying to break the ice a bit.

Swerve choked on Gizmo’s spike as he made an attempt to laugh with it in his mouth.

“That’s not funny,” Doodad retorted.  _ “He’s a tease,” _ he pouted, moving the red servo off of his own member. Gizmo half moaned, half laughed herself.

“Only because I told him to be,” she explained,

Doodad sat down on the sofa next to Gizmo and spread his legs wide for Surge. Surge took the hint and went over to kneel between them and gazed at the spike before him.

_ “Oh, yeah, just like that, Red,” _ Gizmo sighed, rubbing Swerve’s helm. She looked over at Surge. “Did you get everything straight with Ratchet?”

“Yep,” The dark grey mech answered. “I’m official,” he added, before taking the whole of Doodad’s spike into his intake. The receiver exvented sharply and relaxed into the seating, his vocalizations become less intelligible by the second.

Gizmo watched as Surge made love to that spike with his mouth. He looked at her while he did it, too, dimming his visor in the process so she could see his optics. As he matched Swerve’s tempo, he winked at her. Surge decided it would be best to focus on her voyeurism kink and not the hunk kneeling next to him.

She grunted, knowing she was reaching her limit. She loved to watch her sparkmates get freaky, and this was no exception. Her own spike being sucked while she watched them was an added bonus. But her attention to Surge’s mouth was taken away by an alert sent to her from her array system.

_ “Swerve,” _ she began,  _ “get ready,” _ she warned, her grip on his helm changing from soft to rigid. The pink mech’s optics remained fixated on Doodad’s blow job as she came into the grounder’s throat. He thanked Primus for his lack of a gag reflex as he pressed himself down to the base of the appendage. She thanked him as well, spilling every ounce of herself into the intake tube.

Doodad followed close behind, pushing Surge’s face into his crotch as he released himself into his sparkmate, crying out his name. The blue mech reached for Gizmo’s hand, which he found, and held it firmly as he came. She smiled lazily at them both.

Oh, how she loved them.

* * *

Swerve lied on his back against the large berth of the power cells. It was big enough for the three to recharge together, but it was also more than enough for one more minibot to be fragged upon. He could feel his optics rolling into the back of his sockets as the pink mech had found his cluster of ceiling nodes and hit against them over and over with the head of her spike. He let out a strangled moan. He couldn’t idle too long over the affection being given to his valve, as he had Surge’s to attend to.

Surge rocked his hips above the grounder’s mouth to get his attention. He wanted the other to keep eating him out, not stopping every minute or so because Gizmo was giving him a good frag behind him. The red mech took notice and returned to running his glossa between Surge’s lips and polishing the power cell’s anterior node with his oral solvent. Surge gasped and cried out, trying to hump Swerve’s tongue.

“Does he feel good, Surge?” Gizmo asked.  _ He certainly felt good to her. _

“Yes!! ♥️” he shouted, “Oh, god, yes!!” Surge could feel the lubricant practically draining out of him. He hoped his current lover didn’t think he was too zealous about it. Surge couldn’t help it. He was a valve mech; it was his preference. Anything that aroused the sensitive equipment of his lower array made him a hot, wet mess. He worried over what Swerve thought about him as he sat on his face, distracting him from pleasure. 

Swerve moaned again, trying to focus on getting Surge to climax. It was proving difficult, as Gizmo was mercilessly hitting every spot her spike could reach. He was  _ asked  _ not to overload until Surge had, but he was already too close. His optics were offline, allowing him to focus on just the feelings his frame was experiencing. And suddenly, there was a new sensation on him. It had to be Doodad. There was no one else that it could have been.

Doodad made himself comfortable, straddling Swerve’s waist. He was bored, and wanted to do something. He liked Swerve, and he was feeling playful. He smiled as he began to tease his fingers under the bartender’s vents. Swerve jerked and whined more audibly than before. The blue power cell smiled and giggled. He thought this was fun.

“D-Doodad, what are you doing to him??” Surge asked, sounding a bit frustrated.

“I’m just touching his vents. He likes it,” he said, groping at Swerve’s ventilation slats. The power cell pinched at them, rubbed them, then dared to go as far as leaning down and put his mouth on them, running his glossa in between the metal folds. Swerve jerked again and groaned into Surge’s valve as the other power cell licked and nibbled one set of vents and fingered the other set with a freehand.

Swerve apologized to Surge in his mind, being unable to keep a steady and rhythmic motion on his anterior node. He also apologized to Gizmo for not being able to keep the rule of their little game.

“He’s coming,” Gizmo announced, thrusting into a clenching valve. Swerve’s frame shook as the overload cascaded through his circuitry.

“Whoopsie..!” Doodad said, knowing he had caused Swerve to be pushed over the edge. He smirked, feeling a bit devious about it. He did this to Surge all the time, so it was fun to be able to do it to someone else.

Surge, feeling disappointed that he hadn’t reached overload before his partner had, tried to dismount from his face, but Swerve gripped at his waist and began to eat at the minibot’s valve like his tanks were on low. Surge sighed heavily at the sudden enthusiasm.

The tightening calipers of the red mech’s valve began to relax around Gizmo’s spike and she pulled herself out. “Doodad, go get the stasis cuffs,” she said.

“ _ Oh, no _ ,” he laughed, “am I in  _ trouble? _ ”

“You sure are,” she replied, forcing her spike to retract itself uncomfortably back into her array. Doodad got up from the berth to go grab the pair of stasis cuffs they owned out of one of the storage units. “Let’s go,” she said to him, reaching the doorway first.

“Y-You’re,  _ mmmmh _ , leaving?” Surge turned his helm and asked, his hips rocking over the automobile’s mouth in a lustful frenzy.

“Just long enough to help Doodad keep his hands to himself,” the pink mech answered. “Have fun while we’re gone,” she winked behind her visor. She held the door open for Doodad, who was fiddling with the restraining mechanism, allowing him to exit. “Oh, and Swerve,” she began, “be nice to Surge. He’s been wanting to give you the Swerve Special all day,” she grinned, closing the door behind her.

* * *

The stasis cuffs were comfortably tight behind his back, and the palms of his hands pressed firmly against the wall. Doodad exvented sharply as Gizmo grazed her lips against his neck and kissed it softly. He bit his lip as she placed gentle kisses along the fuel lines under his jaw. She moved across his neck, gaging his responses. When she found a good spot, she lingered there.

_ “Ooough, Gizmo,” _ he moaned out.  _ “Frag me...! ♥️” _

She ignored him, continuing to get him hot and bothered. She pushed herself closer to him, emphasizing her modesty plating rubbing against his. Doodad, being in a state of excitement, tried to grind himself into her.

“Oh, no, sweetspark,” she scolded softly, “I need you to keep still. I’m not done playing with you yet.” Doodad whined at the response. He loved it when she treated him like this. “Now, tilt your head for me, sugar.”

Doodad complied, giving his dominant full access to his neck cables. Her hands rested at his sides as she bit down gently on one of the thicker cables. He let out an aroused cry, feeling the biting change to sucking and licking. Involuntarily, the outer panel of his spike housing retracted, and his pressurized spike wedged itself between the two of them. His face twisted into a smirk painted with blush.

“..Whoopsie,” he laughed nervously.

Gizmo manually opened her own spike cover, allowing her aching spike freedom. She took both into her servo and held them together. The pink mech moved her lips over to Doodad’s audial receptor as she began to stoke them, eliciting a gasp from the blue power cell.

_ “Whoopsie.” _

* * *

Surge’s frame trembled and his visor flickered as he overloaded over Swerve’s mouth. His cooling fans switched on to it’s maximum setting and hummed loudly from within him. It was a hard, overdue release. Swerve continued sucking on the other’s anterior node until the overload faded out. Truth be told, he wished it had lasted longer for him. The way Surge rode his face, came all over his mouth...he tasted good. Oh! And the sounds he made! Talk about an ego boost. 

A hot, horny ego boost.

The dark grey mech exvented as he dismounted and pivoted himself onto his back. Swerve grinned as he licked the remaining amount of transfluid from his lips. He’d have to wash away the streaks that had gone past the sides of his face and down his neck cabling later.

“What’s the Swerve Special?” he sighed. Swerve sat up and manually closed his valve cover shut. Surge kept his open, his valve glistening and in plain sight. As if it hadn’t pinged him enough already, his array certainly was doing it now. Request after request came to him from his interface system along with several other messages about the pressure buildup in his spike. He tried to ignore them.

“It’s a drink. It’s one that I make that’s sent on behalf of someone else. You know, as an indirect way to say ‘hey! Let’s frag our brain modules out!’”

Surge’s optics grew wide and he felt embarrassed, realizing now what Gizmo had meant when she said what she did.

He sat there, not really knowing what to say.

But Swerve did.

“So, are you the one I should thank for such a good time? It’s been great, really. I’m beyond flattered,” he rambled.

“Oh. Uh,” Surge reddened, trying to put words together. “I guess so.”

“Sorry, I’m ruining the mood,” Swerve apologized. “This doesn’t happen to me often. I mean, it  _ never _ does. Not with more than one person at the same time. Not with my own  _ drink _ ,” he laughed.

They sat there in an awkward silence for a moment, before the bartender broke it.

“...Do you wanna…?” He gestured between the two of them. Surge sat up, rebelling against every introverted impulse that made him who he was. If there was any moment for the power cell to take charge and stop being so passive about his desires it was now. He all but fell into Swerve’s arms, slamming his mouth against the grounder’s. Surge had wanted it to be “romantic” or “gentle,” but he knew that wasn’t happening as their denta clacked in the impact. He tried to move past the blunder and just kiss the mech, but said mech had a big, toothy grin on his face.

“You’re really hot. Like,  _ really  _ hot.”

Surge blushed at the words, having not heard them often. Power cells weren’t usually called that. At least, not  _ Surge _ .

The nurse laid back down on the berth and spread his legs, putting his still very wet valve on display.

“I need you to frag me,” He managed to say without stuttering. Swerve’s spike panel snapped open, and the thick appendage stood tall and ready. The power cell’s optics widened at the sight. It was bigger than what he was used to with Doodad and Gizmo and it made his mouth water just a bit.

That thing was going to make him scream.

Swerve’s grin never left as he took hold of himself. “ _ This _ is the real Swerve Special,” he said confidently. Swerve inched closer, that cheesy one-liner still hanging in the atmosphere. Surge put up a hand to stop him before he could begin to position himself.

“Hold on,” he said, sitting back up. He turned himself over and pressed his face into one of the pillows. Swerve watched as he raised his lower half above his knees. Surge’s valve was presented to him in submission, and it dripped onto the recharge slab below. Swerve’s spike throbbed in his hand. He got on his own knees and positioned himself behind the other minibot. He rubbed the head of his spike against Surge’s exterior valve mesh to lubricate himself. The dark grey mech moaned into the pillow as the equipment rubbed against him. Was he still being a tease?

All thoughts ceased to exist as he felt Big Red push past the first row of calipers, fill up the second, and nestled into the third. The sounds Swerve heard from below him were a mix of surprise and surrender. He gripped Surge’s hip kibble gently and pulled himself out. He found himself unable to stop his own sounds from escaping past his teeth as he began a slow pace, gradually picking up speed and rhythm.

The moaning from inside of the pillow became louder, and pitched higher as each thrust went deep inside of him. The lining of the valve stretched to accommodate this new size, and it pulled on the sensors that were woven into it. Nodes were touched simultaneously and pulsed within him. Surge groaned weakly.

Swerve had never been inside someone so tight before. But he wasn’t about to start complaining. He couldn’t, not with the string of expletives and lustful ramblings that kept coming out of his intake.

“You’re so fragging tight, Surge..! I’m gonna frag you all night long..! Oh, shit, oh shit..!!”

The grounder pressed himself all the way into his lover as he continued, stretching Surge further and hitting a cluster here and a cluster there that hadn’t been touched in a while. The power cell raised his head from the pillow and shouted, “FUCK ME. ♥️”

Swerve couldn’t help but laugh a little at hearing the earth term.

“Where’d you hear that word, Surge? I don’t play material with that kind of language at  _ my  _ bar,” he grunted, trying not to think about the content agreement form Ultra Magnus had made him go over and sign. Worst three hours of his  _ life _ .

“ _ Mmmm ♥️ _ , Doodad watches human porn. He’s into organic, alien stuff.  _ OH, GOD, THERE..!! _ ”

Swerve’s spike had found his ceiling node and hit it over and over, making the power cell sing out his name. The calipers that held him in place started to tighten, then cycled down on his length. Surge cried out as he overloaded on the still penetrating spike, muffling a sentence into the pillow. Swerve wasn’t having it. Not with it being what he thought he had heard.

“What was that, Surge?! What did you say?!” His array pinged him. It was time.

The red mech gripped his hips tighter and thrust more firmly into the valve, drawing out another overload from Surge, who almost sobbed from ecstasy.

_ “ _ _ Fuck me, daddy..! _ _ ” _ he whined loudly. He could feel his array releasing a long stream of fluid out of his system as he was taken from behind and sent over the edge once more.

The bartender grinned at being called that. Doodad wasn’t the only one that watched earth porn.

Swerve thrust hard, pulling Surge into his array and spilled himself. Surge rolled his optics and bit the fabric of the pillow between his denta as the internal structure of his valve port flooded with hot fluid. He felt his face flush as he came back down from his overload, realizing what he had said out loud. He buried his face into the pillow.

Swerve pulled out with a sigh. The berth was already a mess, so the fluid that came out with his spike didn’t make much of a difference. He maneuvered himself beside Surge who had lowered himself completely onto the berth, face still pressed into the cushion. As his spike became more flaccid, he retracted it back into its housing.

They both had a new favorite drink now.


End file.
